


Christmas Eve is for Teddy

by aibidil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Dance Dance Revolution - Freeform, Established Relationship, Family, Family Feels, Flirting, Inappropriate Erections, M/M, Minor Scorpius Malfoy/Albus Severus Potter, Siblings, Wassail, Wii
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aibidil/pseuds/aibidil
Summary: It’s a Christmas Eve gathering at the Potter-Lupin residence, and Teddy thoroughly enjoys his favourite day of the year.





	Christmas Eve is for Teddy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shiftylinguini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiftylinguini/gifts).



> Thanks to **frnklymrshnkly** for the speedy beta. For the lovely **shiftylinguini** , you are a gem. <3

Teddy sits at his dining room table holding a glass mug of wassail and watches as his husband makes an utter fool of himself. James is wearing a pair of magically lit, flashing reindeer antlers and a garish Christmas jumper that reads “Christmas: The Most Wonderful Time for a Beer!” He’s convinced George, Ginny, and Hugo to compete in game of Dance Dance Revolution on the Wii he recently unearthed from Harry’s attic.

Harry is sitting in their big armchair—the one that’s wide enough for a person and one of their curled up crups, or alternately, for two people engaged in less pet-friendly pursuits—reading _‘Twas the Night Before Christmas_ to George’s grandchild, Harper. Albus and Lily are sat on the floor at his feet alternately arm wrestling and jeering at the dancers.

Teddy huffs an amused laugh at a particularly creative move of James’s. James looks over his shoulder at Teddy, one leg in the air, and winks.

 _Merlin._ James should not be able to have this effect on him anymore, Teddy thinks as he adjusts his trousers. They’ve been married for three years, dating for another three. It’s been over six years since he was tortured by being in the same room as James, trying to keep himself under control in the face of James’s infectious energy, sparkling eyes, and the easy movements of his fit body. 

Teddy smiles at him across the room and then groans into his wassail when James thrusts his arse in Teddy’s direction.

“Is James torturing you again?” Scorpius asks, craning his neck to get a better view of the dancers. 

“Of course,” Teddy says, laughing. He and Scorpius have forged quite the bond of solidarity as the non-Potter, non-Weasley sons-in-law. They have to stick together, because it’s never clear when the sheer Gryffindorness of the Potter/Weasley clan will hit them with something absolutely unacceptable. Like the time Ron and James hired a troupe of magical male strippers for Scorpius’s stag night and Teddy had to get rid of the dancers and cast a cortisol-lowering charm to stop Scorpius’s panicked trembling.

Teddy sips his wassail and tries to ignore the way James, never breaking eye contact, adds much more hip thrusting than DDR strictly calls for. 

No one else notices that James is trying to rile Teddy up, because he is stood next to his mother, who has somehow managed to invert herself onto her hands for a few moments and then land back on her feet. The crowd cheers her with whistles and applause.

One of their crups, P.W.B., wanders in with a scarf in his mouth, followed by an agitated Draco, who is casting spells at it. Draco is trying to appear calm, but looks like he’s about to snap.

“Is that your dad’s scarf?” Teddy asks.

“Yes—oh Merlin, it’s cashmere,” Scorpius breathes. “I better help.”

James, never pausing his dancing, notices the commotion and yells, “Percival Wulfric Brian! Drop it! Drop it right now!”

P.W.B. is not moved by James’s exhortation, which doesn’t reflect much on his training because he hasn’t been trained to listen to someone giving orders while playing DDR. Albus, however, is moved by James’s words, and, still sore about the crup’s name, scowls at his brother from his spot on the floor.

Scorpius has his hands full now, and Teddy can’t help but laugh as Scorpius casts a jaw-opening charm at P.W.B. (he tries not to think about why Scorpius knows that charm), then spells the scarf clear of crup slobber and returns it to his almost-flustered father. Scorpius then turns to cheer his surly husband by sitting in his lap and thoroughly distracting Albus from the crup-name debacle by kissing his ear.

Teddy smiles at Scorpius, who really is a master of deescalation. James catches Teddy’s eye again and crooks his finger in a lewd come-hither motion just as George flops onto the sofa with an “I’m too old for this!”

James, however, is still going strong, and adding in flourishes that will surely raise Teddy’s blood pressure, even if they won’t raise his game score. Or maybe for James raising Teddy’s blood pressure _is_ the game.

With a laugh, Harry hoists Harper onto his hip and hands the child to George. He makes his way across the crowded room and sits next to Teddy at the table, stopping on the way to kiss the top of Teddy’s head the way he has always done.

“You don’t feel like playing DDR?” Harry asks with an amused smile.

Teddy laughs. “I think James and Ginny have the DDR under control.”

“They’re insane,” Harry says, watching them with a fond smile. He turns back. “Thanks for hosting. You know I would do it if it’s too much. You’re not as, er, extroverted as the extended family.”

Teddy laughs, a loud, deep sound that alerts him maybe he should stop with the wassail. “I love it. And I’m happy to host. You hosted for me for more than two decades. It’s the least I can do.”

When Teddy was little, Harry had decided that Christmas Eve was for Teddy. On Christmas Day Teddy would open his presents with his grandmother and they would go to the Burrow for a boisterous Christmas dinner, but Christmas Eve was special. At first it was just the two of them, Harry and Teddy, and Harry would cook, and they would sing carols.

Over the years, after Harry’s kids were born, Christmas Eve grew, but it was still for Teddy. Harry always made that clear. After Teddy and James got married, they offered to take over hosting duties. It’s good, and they are glad to relieve Harry of the work, but it is different. That’s the thing about traditions—they’re always changing.

Teddy glances at the wassail—maybe he really has had enough. He reaches an arm around Harry’s shoulders and squeezes. “Happy Christmas, Harry.”

“Happy Christmas, Teddy.” Harry smiles a blinding smile and squeezes back. Half the time Harry calls Teddy “son-in-law” these days, still not over the novelty of it, but Teddy knows Harry wouldn’t do that on Christmas Eve. Christmas Eve isn’t about being married to James, it’s about _Teddy._

Ron ruins the mood by pointing at James and yelling, “That’s a foul, Mr. Pupin!”

When James and Teddy were engaged, there had been a lot of talk about name changing. They weren’t crazy about Potter-Lupin or Lupin-Potter, and James was happy to take Lupin (“Everyone knows I’m a Potter anyway, and I’ve got parents and siblings who will have kids”), but Teddy’s goal had never been to usurp the Potter family and he felt that James would be giving up too much of his identity—that Teddy loved!—to become James Lupin. Then they had considered combining the names, and unfortunately this possibility was first raised at a Weasley Sunday dinner, and immediately the entire family had decided they should be the Pupins. George had laughed so hard that he had to leave the room, guffawing and yelling, “Did you hear that, Fred? _Pupin!”_

Lily jumps up from her spot near Albus and announces in that loud, authoritative voice of hers, “That’s it! You all know the rule! The first mention of ‘Pupin’ signals it’s time to go home!”

James and Ginny, the only two left playing DDR, stop reluctantly. (Ginny has won, and Teddy has no doubt it’s because she kept her eyes on the screen, rather than on Teddy.) The group raucously begins to clean up their mess, Vanishing trash and Levitating the dishware to the kitchen. Harper, too young to have a wand, waves hands in the air and sings, “In every job that must be done, there is an element of fun, you find the fun and snap! The job's a game!” The _snap_ produces a shower of purple sparks that singe the rug, and Harper’s father, Fred, rushes over to deal with the smoking fabric.

Through all of this, James puts on quite a show for Teddy. He stretches, exposing his toned stomach. He leans down, arse in the air to pick up a stray ribbon he could easily have Summoned. He rubs his hand on his thigh under what is surely the pretense of an itch.

Teddy swallows, takes a deep breath. 

The crowd files merrily through their Floo after hugs and “2 o’clock tomorrow?” “Go to sleep fast so Father Christmas can visit!” “Bring the Wii, will you?” “Hermione and Ron, you’re on wine duty!”

The house is startlingly quiet in their wake, and P.W.B. looks at the Floo for a moment before satisfying himself that it will remain quiet, then immediately curls up in front of the hearth, exhausted from the evening’s activity.

James, echoing the behavior of his crup, flops onto the sofa. “Merlin. My mum is not to be messed with in that game.”

He’s the epitome of casualness, reclining on the sofa as if he hasn’t just been seducing Teddy in front of their family for the last hour. 

Teddy has had enough. He stalks across the floor and straddles James’s hips, pressing his weight onto James’s lap and leaning forward to kiss his neck.

“You were trying to kill me,” Teddy growls, and James tips his head back, laughing loudly.

“Maybe a bit,” James concedes, reaching around to grab Teddy’s hips. “Your hair turned a really nice festive red when I started the hip thrusts.”

Teddy bites his neck, smiling smugly when he hears James inhale a surprised breath. “You’re such a tease, Jamie,” he whispers with a laugh.

“Not a tease,” James says with a jaunty smile, reaching behind his head to grab the neck of his ridiculous Christmas jumper and yanking it off over his head. 

Teddy’s mouth is dry at the sight of James’s gorgeous skin, and he leans down to lick James’s nipple. “You’re horrible,” he says, raising himself to kiss James’s mouth.

“What?” James replies with faux innocence. “Christmas Eve is for Teddy.” And with a filthy smile, he reaches for Teddy’s trousers.


End file.
